Feet In Various Poses

Captain Baudin has left for the bus stop.

No doubt he'll be disappointed, says Gaius.

They might have a small pair, says David.

Which legs would he wear them on, I wonder? says Gaius.

Good point, says David.  

They try to imagine Baudin, wearing four sets of Pinnacle System Socks, on his eight walking legs.

And see the problem.

Perhaps they'll persuade him to make a different purchase, says Gaius. Claw gloves for example.

Or a red knitted hat, says David. I seem to remember Ageless wore one.

Yes, Ageless did have one, says Gaius.

Perhaps he might lend it to Baudin, if he comes back without socks, says David.

I may suggest it, says Gaius. 

David kicks off his shoes, revealing the complexities of his socks.

What are those black areas? asks Gaius.

The heel and top-of-foot cushionings, says David. 

And the wiggly lines? asks Gaius. A map?

I doubt it, says David. 

Have you finished your packing? asks Gaius.

Yes, says David. I could stay for a coffee.

I've run out of coffee, says Gaius. You could stay for a water.

I must get used to the spartan life, says David.

Indeed, says Gaius. There's no internet on Te Hauturu-o-Toi.

That won't bother me, says David. And it shouldn't bother mother.

There will be plenty to do there, says Gaius. 

Counting the kakapos, says David. By the way, did you say Kierko had gone birding?

Yes, with Angelina, says Gaius. He called her on his new phone.

Do you have his number? asks David. I might send him a photo.

That would be nice, says Gaius. But I don't have it.

Has he called you? asks David. If he has, then you do. 

Gaius checks his phone. Yes, that must be Kierko's number. He shows it to David,.

David takes several photos of his feet in various poses. And sends them to Kierko on Kangaroo Island.

....

Kierko on Kangaroo Island is engaged in spotting a bassian thrush.

Ba-ding! 

The sock photo arrives.

The bassian thrush flutters off.

Did you get it? whispers Angelina.

I think so, says Kierkegaard.

He sees he has a new message. He calls it up.

Let me see, says Angelina, expecting to see a bassian thrush or the branch on which one was recently sitting. 

Not David Hume's socks.